


Eye of the Storm

by Nothing_You_Can_Prove, Thecivillian, tylerbamafan34



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss, Memories, One Year Later, Post-Canon, Sacrifice Chloe Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 02:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_You_Can_Prove/pseuds/Nothing_You_Can_Prove, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thecivillian/pseuds/Thecivillian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerbamafan34/pseuds/tylerbamafan34
Summary: Set one year after Max Caulfield made the impossible choice.Work in progress





	1. Memento Mori

  
  
**October 7th, 2014 - Price House, Chloe’s Bedroom – Early Afternoon**  
  
**_"And Max Caulfield… don’t you ever forget about me…"_**  
  
Those painfully familiar words resounded in the young brunette’s mind as she gradually stirred from yet another restless night’s sleep. Bright morning sunlight filtered through the faded American flag used as a makeshift curtain, falling on the bed. It made her turn away, burying her head in the pillows and blankets to shut out the invasive wake up call. A familiar aroma of weed, cigarettes, and body wash filled her nostrils as she clutched onto her friend’s pillow like a life raft.  
  
A flock of birds happily chirruped away somewhere outside, so carefree as they sang their morning tunes. The sound could not less appropriately fit Max’s mindset. Reluctantly, she sat up and looked around the room which used to – and still did – belong to her blue-haired punk, Chloe Price. It had been a whole year since that fateful day and the room still looked the same, albeit tidier. A few new additions had been made, mostly early childhood photos of two dorky looking teens a blonde and a brunette in various outfits, most notably pirate costumes.  
  
Joyce had offered her the room shortly after the bluenette’s funeral along with her truck, both of which Max had accepted. Since then, neither had changed much. She couldn’t bring herself to alter it, even taking out the trash had been hard. Anything Chloe had touched was another link to her and it felt awful to throw it away… like she was erasing part of her presence, evidence she had ever existed.  
  
Dragging herself out of bed, Max flicked the stereo on. Santa Monica Dream, the first song that played when she and Chloe had reunited, came from the speakers. She stood still for a few moments and listened to the soft guitar and melancholic lyrics filling the air. The melody evoked a ton of memories… all tied to her year-long dead friend.  
  
Eventually, she wandered over to the closet – where she had once played out childhood fantasies  – to put on her outfit for the day. A pair of faded blue jeans, red checked shirt, three-quarter length black boots, Chloe’s signature leather jacket, and tri-bullet necklace.  
  
_‘A mixture of old and now. Lost and found… then lost again…_ ’ she thought bitterly as a memory forced its way into her head.  
  
**_“I double dare you, kiss me now,”_** the echoey voice challenged, just as clear as the day it was spoken.  
  
_‘Yes. A million times yes. In any reality…’_ A weak smile tugged at her lips, eyes stinging a little as she wandered over to the mirror. Stuck to it was a picture of Rachel and Chloe, the bluenette flipping off the camera. “Morning, guys. I’ll be coming to see you later. Wait for me, okay?”  
  
Checking out her haggard reflection – the result of sleepless nights and prolonged emotional distress – she ran her fingers through her hair. There was a single faded blue streak alongside a dirty blonde strand, in remembrance of Arcadia’s angels. Two girls who changed the course of fate in this sleepy town… but paid the ultimate price.  
  
Heading over to the dresser, she pulled out an envelope and her faithful – if tatty – diary, alongside a bag with several joints inside. Pocketing the latter, she turned to head out of the room. Hesitating, she swore she could almost see Chloe jumping on the bed, dancing to music.  
  
**_"This song fucking rules. What’s the matter? Can't dance, hippie? C’mon, shake that boney white ass!"_**  
  
_‘Still can’t dance… not that it matters anymore…_ ’ Heading downstairs, she found the house empty. Joyce was working a double shift today, not due to finish till the early hours of the next morning. _‘Guess Joyce finds it easier to work, especially today of all days.’_  
  
Placing her diary on the dining table along with a letter, she set about making herself some coffee. Downing it, she took one last look around the house that was practically her childhood home. Her gaze zeroed in on the wine stain still decorating the carpet.  
  
_**“C’mon, open it chicken!” a much younger Chloe Price demanded.**_  
  
_**“Hold on, and I’m not a chicken!”**_  
  
_**“Prove it! You drink first, Max,” her friend’s tone was mischievous, coaxing.**_  
  
“You were braver than me in the end, Chloe. Braver than anyone”, Max mumbled, wiping fresh tears from her cheeks as she smiled weakly at the memory. “I hope you don’t hate me for this…”  
  
Before she left, she checked her messages one last time. ‘ _Nothing… guess that’s what happens when you shut yourself off from the world. Then again, my world died a year ago…_ ’ Sighing, she tossed her phone on the table with a clatter, giving her journal a final look. ‘ _Goodbye, old friend. Thanks for being there for me, but I’m beyond broken now. No amount of scrapbooking will change that.’_ With that, she grabbed the keys to Chloe’s truck and headed outside. Not once did she look back. Her mind was already made up.  
  
After driving aimlessly for a few hours, she made her way up to a painfully familiar spot, by far the worst out of the long list. Dragging her feet, she slumped down on the rickety wooden bench, watching waves crash against the cliffs. A few gulls cried as they glided overhead, the old lighthouse standing ever vigilant over the bay.  
  
Taking a joint from the baggie, she lit it and took a deep hit, letting the warmth flow down her throat. ‘ _See guys, I’m not so chickenshit anymore…_ ’  
  
As much as she wanted to smile at the irony, she just couldn’t. It was too painful. She sat there for some time, working her way through the joint. If anybody needed to get high in Arcadia, it was her.  
  
_‘Rachel, I hope you’ve been looking after Chloe for me. Won’t be long now… then, I can leave this fucking awful place behind me. Forever._ ’ It had taken her this long to work up the courage to do what she had planned today, a whole year of debating. In the end, there was nothing left in Arcadia for her anymore... no reason to stay.  
  
‘ _This is where it all started, with that stupid dream… even after all this time, it felt so real. This is where we reconnected after all those years. Where I finally realized that… I loved you, Chloe. And the last time I saw you… alive.’_ Max could feel herself tearing up, angrily swiping at her eyes.  
  
_**“Wherever I end up, in whatever reality, all those moments between us were real, and they always will be. Whatever you choose, I know you’ll make the right decision**. **”**_ Chloe’s words of comfort, amongst her final ever spoken on this earth, swirled in the young time traveler’s mind.  
  
“Did I, Chloe?” she muttered, recalling her friend’s words with crystal clarity. “Did I make the right decision? If I did… then, why does it hurt so damn much? Nothing feels… real, anymore. If this is the right decision, you not being by my side, maybe I don’t want to be right.”  
  
She spent the next few hours staring out over the cliff, watching the sun sink further into the horizon. Everything felt numb, physically present but emotionally distant. Being here was bittersweet, all her memories tainted. Eventually, she moved on. There were still places she needed to visit before the day was done.  
  
The beat-up yellow truck pulled up at its final resting place… Arcadia Bay’s junkyard. It had been left untouched since Rachel’s body had been discovered and reburied in the cemetery, alongside Chloe Price. Shutting off the engine, she got out. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows amidst the wrecked cars and appliances.  
  
A familiar ghostly doe stood waiting on the far-left side, police tape still lingering from the investigation. _‘I’ve been planning to do this for months… but I guess you already knew that, didn’t you, Rachel?’_  
  
As Max approached, it watched her kneel and dig a small hole in the dirt with her bare hands, placing Chloe’s keys inside before filling it. Task done, she entered the unassuming gray brick shelter that once belonged to the bluenette and her blonde companion. They had claimed it with graffiti and personal belongings, more like a shrine now than a sanctuary.  
  
Sitting herself down on one of the old chairs, she pulled out another joint. As she inhaled, she let the soft fuzz work its way over her. On the far wall, black writing stood out against the dull gray, defiantly resisting the wear of time.  
  
**Chloe was here**  
  
**Rachel was here**  
  
**Max was here**  
  
Rummaging around in a small box of odds and ends, Max found a working marker pen and got to her feet. Crossing the room, she updated the message.  
  
**Chloe IS here**  
  
**Rachel IS here**  
  
**Max IS here**  
  
“Much better,” Max announced softly as she examined her handiwork. “I always feel closer to you here.”  
  
As expected, she couldn’t help but recall her and Chloe’s time at the junkyard, on the Tuesday of that fucked up week. “Can you go find me some bottles while I prep the shooting range… pretty please…"

 ** _"You saved me again. crazy. now we're totally bonded for life!”_**  
  
Once she was done at the junkyard, she wandered back towards the town center on foot. She didn’t even notice time pass, everything merging into one seemingly unending path. Finally, she made it, street lamps flickering as the evening sun began to set. Many businesses were closing for the day, not the Two Whales, though. From this distance, she could just about make out Joyce chatting away to customers and a few kids playing on one of the new driving game arcade machines.  
  
Under normal circumstances, she would’ve gone in… not tonight. There was somewhere she had to be and seeing Joyce again might make her resolve falter. Walking a few blocks, she entered the twenty-four-hour Sav-Mart, the very same one William Price never made it to… killed in a car crash.  
  
Hanging back, she waited for the cashier to disappear into the back room. _‘Chloe, I can imagine you being so pumped about me doing this sorta thing. From the sounds of it, Rachel would too.’_ The coast clear, she entered the store and heaved herself up over the counter. She helped herself to a bottle of whiskey, leaving $30 in its place. _‘Still the unwavering moral compass, I’m afraid… well, mostly._ ’  
  
She leaped off the counter just as the cashier re-entered the main section of the store. The second he saw her, he stomped closer shouting. Without even flinching, she raced outside, throwing her hand up to rewind the last thirty seconds or so. The cashier was left none the wiser.  
  
Twisting the top, she brought the bottle to her lips and inhaled the smell of strong liquor before taking a mouthful. The rich liquid burned as it rushed down her throat, warming her stomach. ‘ _Doesn’t taste that bad, I guess. Cheers, guys._ ’ She raised the bottle before taking another swig.  
  
Checking the baggie, finding three joints left, and everything else she needed in her other pocket, she headed towards her final destination. _‘Everything’s set. Time to go…’_

* * *

The first light of dawn signaled the beginning of a new day as Joyce finally returned home. Today had been a long, busy shift and all she wanted to do was sleep. Sighing when she noticed the yellow truck’s absence, she entered her house. David would be home soon, so she wouldn’t have to be alone for long.  
  
Flicking the kettle on, she headed to the kitchen and shot Max a text to check she was okay. _‘Poor girl… she’s really struggling. I bet she still feels guilty for not getting in touch sooner.’_  
  
When she heard a quiet buzz on the table, she went over to investigate. She found Max’s phone and what she assumed was the young girl’s diary, alongside an envelope addressed to herself. As she picked the letter up, a sense of dread began to consume her. Taking a seat, she opened it and began to read.

* * *

_Dear Joyce_ ,  
  
_By the time you read this, it’ll be morning. I hope you’re not too tired from your shift and I’m sorry to not be there when you get back. I know how much you hate being alone… especially after what happened to Chloe. There is something I need to tell you. It’s all in my diary, which I now leave to you. You DESERVE to know the truth, even if I’m too much of a coward to tell you in person... the truth about Chloe._  
  
_You see, I did meet her again. We had the most amazing and scary week, filled with danger, laughter, tears… and love. That week we shared never happened though, at least not for you or the rest of Arcadia Bay. I warn you now, this will be hard to believe. Aside from Chloe, you’re the only other person I could never lie to. So, here goes._  
  
_One year ago, I met up with Chloe again. That was the day I discovered I could do something I thought was completely impossible, science fiction. That day – October 7th, 2013 – was when I discovered I could rewind time. With my newfound power, I saved Chloe from getting shot. I’m not joking, I swear._  
  
_By chance, I bumped into her again later and she saved me, in a smaller way. After getting thoroughly chewed out for not getting in touch sooner – which I TOTALLY deserved – we kinda picked up where we left off. Like no time had passed. And yes, I told Chloe about my power. As you can imagine, she was all over it. Some of the mischief we got into was fun… unnecessary spoiler alert, this doesn’t have a happy ending._  
  
_I offered to help Chloe find her six months missing friend… girlfriend… uh, still don’t really know what’s going on there, Rachel Amber. So, we began searching for clues. Eventually, everything led to Nathan Prescott, and later on Mark Jefferson as you know. We also found Rachel’s body… buried in the junkyard. Just thinking about that moment hurts. You should’ve seen Chloe. I’ve never seen her so crushed. It tore me up._  
  
_It wasn’t all doom and gloom. We went swimming at Blackwell’s pool late one night. David knew someone had been there, and somehow you seemed to know it was us but didn’t say anything. I wish we had trusted David more from the start. Problem is, he can come across as a little… well, not friendly. He kinda scared me when we first met, but I know he’s a good man who cared about you and Chloe._  
  
_Anyway, to the point of this letter. Your daughter, our Chloe, was the bravest person I have ever known. And here’s why. My time meddling caused some crazy shit: a snowstorm, dead animals, two moons, and on Friday 11th, October… a stupidly HUGE tornado poised to swallow Arcadia whole._  
  
_Three things happened that day. First, it was the day I realized I was in love with Chloe, completely and unconditionally. The second, that huge tornado from my visions was real. Finally, it was the day Chloe Elizabeth Price showed her true colors. Despite owing Arcadia nothing, less than nothing, she convinced me to go back to Monday and let her… die._  
  
_She wasn’t the only one to die that day. I did, too in my own way. Every day for the past year, I wished I could’ve joined her then, seen her one last time and told her everything she deserved to hear. I made the choice to sacrifice her to save Arcadia Bay, to basically kill the woman I love myself. Worst, she died thinking nobody gave a shit, least of all me. That couldn’t be fucking further from the truth. And… I was literally only feet away, where all I could do was listen, and cry as her life was ended._  
  
_I honored her wishes, even though every fiber of my being told me otherwise. I even burned the butterfly photo to prevent me from undoing it, because I knew I would falter. Believe me, I have tried. I have no way of going back. Sure, I can rewind but… not a whole year._  
  
_There’s way more detail in my diary, explaining everything better. It’s up to you who you tell. So long as you know the truth… CHLOE ELIZABETH PRICE gave herself to save Arcadia Bay. She and Rachel are the angels Arcadia didn’t deserve, but they protected it with their lives._  
  
_Of course, by now you know what this means. And you’re probably crying or blaming yourself. Don’t. Nobody could fix me… well, the one person who could is beyond my reach. Which is why I’ve made my final decision._  
  
_By now, I’ve watched the first light of day, and my last. I’m going to see them, Chloe and Rachel. I need to be with my blue-haired punk._  
  
_I’m sorry, Joyce and I love you._  
  
_Max_  
  
_P.S. I've already sent my mom and dad a letter. They will know a few hours from now xxx_

* * *

Tears were rolling thick and fast down the older woman’s cheeks as she tried to absorb what she was reading. The tattered book next to her had a label stuck across the middle… ‘ **Capt. Chloe ‘Bluebeard’ Price and her first mate, Long Max Silver. Partners in crime and in TIME.** ’  
  
A sense of dread filled her to the core as the implication of Max’s words began to paint a very grim prospect. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway snapped her out of her daze. Springing to her feet, she launched herself to the door flinging it open just as David was about to put his key in the lock. Without thinking she snatched the keys from him and ran over to the car, getting in and firing up the engine.  
  
"What the…?" he began, frowning at the unexpected move.  
  
"GET IN!" Joyce practically screamed as she flung the passenger door open and slammed the muscle car into reverse.  
  
Not arguing, David got into the passenger side only to have a slightly crumpled letter thrust at him as he closed the door. The engine roaring into life as Joyce backed the car out aggressively. "What on earth…?"  
  
"Read it," she snapped, pointing to the letter in his hand. "The last paragraph."  
  
Scanning the letter, David was only mildly aware of the engine roaring as his wife floored the accelerator down the street. He quickly found the last part Joyce was talking about, the color draining from his face as he read. "Oh god... you don't think…?"  
  
Wiping the tears from her face, the older woman just nodded as she gripped the steering wheel tighter and pressed her foot on the accelerator. Running a red light, she narrowly avoided a dump truck on its early morning route. The sound of a police siren began blaring behind them, not that it slowed her down at all.  
  
"Jesus woman... where did you learn to drive?" David grunted, gripping the side of his seat.  
  
"That stupid racing game at the Two Whales," Joyce replied in such a way that is was hard to tell if she was joking or not.  
  
Raising his eyebrows, David let out another groan as the car took a hard-left, throwing him into the door, the police car still in hot pursuit. "Where would she even be?"  
  
"The only place she could be as close to her as possible,” she pointed out firmly.  
  
Before David could reply, Joyce slammed the breaks. The tires squealed in protest as the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. Before the pursuing police car came to a stop itself, she was out of the car and sprinting up the path to Arcadia Bay’s Cemetery. As she ran, she lost her heels in the process, not that it mattered. Only one thing did right now…  
  
The early morning sun cast its peaceful glow over the graveyard, birds singing their hearts out. As she ran, she could’ve sworn that for just a second, she saw the ghostly figure of a doe in a familiar area she had visited herself many times. Rounding the corner of the pathway, she came to a row of recent tombstones.  
  
Getting closer, her heart sank and a fresh round of tears ran down her face. She fell to her knees beside her own daughter’s grave. On top was a single joint, partially burned, and a plastic cup filled with a dark brown liquid. The tombstone next to it belonged to Rachel Amber, which had undergone a similar treatment. At the foot of both were a broken whiskey bottle and a stubbed butt… with a small figure curled up in a black leather jacket, surrounded by a pool of dark red liquid.  
  
Tentatively, the older woman reached forward to roll the figure towards her. A heart-wracking sob erupted from her as she confirmed her worst fear. The arms were limp, each containing a deep gash running down the forearm. Loosely clutched in one hand was a bloodied, jagged shard of glass, which Joyce swatted away as though it would make a difference now.  
  
Tugging the cold, unmoving body closer in a fierce hug, she completely gave way to the overwhelming despair threatening to consume her. With shaking fingers, she wiped away the faded blue and blonde streaks of hair to reveal the pale freckled face of Max Caulfield.


	2. Last Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys
> 
> Sorry, it's been a while but what with the X-mas season and Real life throwing me a curveball things have been hectic, to say the least.
> 
> But here is chapter two, This one has to be happier than the previous chapter...right!.

**March 28th, 2013**

A chilly breeze swept through the almost deserted streets, darkness rapidly falling. Streetlamps flickered to life pre-emptively, ready to illuminate the way for late night travelers. It was quiet, too quiet. Eerily so. The only sounds to be heard were the occasional passing car, animals rustling in the bushes and the odd passing voice. Despite the unforgiving evening, one person had decided to brave the cold.

A hazel-eyed blonde.

She wrapped herself up in her jacket, wishing she had brought something more heavy duty along. Her trademark blue feather earring fluttered with the next gust of wind, making her disappear further into her clothing. Not too far to go now. In fact, she could see her destination in the distance. A grand abode, fit for a family such as hers. For an asshole of a DA she wanted so desperately to hate... but couldn't quite bring herself to.

"Fuck..." She shuddered, wanting nothing more than to turn around right now.

Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. In all honesty, she didn't want to be here right now, but she needed a few things from her room. Things she couldn't simply replace. Especially since her father cut her credit card allowance after finding out her plans to skip town with Chloe Price. They should've left while they had the chance... before her father figured it all out. Not that they had the money to leave at that point. Still, maybe if they had tried harder...

Sighing, breath visibly spiraling as hot mingled with cold, she approached the door. Taking her hands out of her jacket pockets, she began searching for the key to her house. Well, it didn't feel like that anymore... not that it really had before now. It had been a place where she lived, but  _not_ home. 

"Okay, come on, Rachel," the blonde muttered under her breath, psyching herself up. "You can do this. A quick in and out. Then... maybe you can get the fuck out of here. Forever."

Her little pep talk/vow delivered, she slid the key into the lock. A subtle click rang out into the near silence, the door swinging open as she stepped over the threshold. The interior was all too familiar to her, very organized and clean. It made her want to scream. Smash everything she could get ahold of. Set alight the remains and watch it  _burn_. It symbolized everything she hated about life... and herself sometimes.

False perfection. 

It was then she noticed someone sat in the chair, reading a newspaper. A graying head swiveled at the sound of the door opening, expression remaining unchanged. Although... there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes, one which betrayed his stoic exterior. She tried to ignore that. "Ah, I wondered when you would be coming by again. How's my little girl doing?"

Rachel frowned, almost snarling her response as she slammed the door. No point in being stealthy now. She had hoped nobody would be home. "Don't call me that. Ever. I'm _not_ your little girl... and I wish you weren't my dad." She didn't really mean that, not entirely, but anger consumed her in that moment.

The older man sighed, setting his paper down and standing. His body was tense, features stern. "Rachel, this has gone too far. You can't  _still_ be angry at me, not after all these years."

That statement made her scoff, incredulous at his nonchalance. "Oh, can't I? I'm  _so_ sorry. How inconsiderate of me to not forgive my asshole of a 'father' for lying to me my entire fucking life."

Something in his face shifted, mild annoyance. "I've asked you not to use that kind of language in this house."

"Yet another fucking privilege you lost." Not giving him the chance to respond, she stormed up the stairs.

Leaving him in the lounge, she stomped across the landing and slammed the door to her room behind her. The sound echoed down the hall, a muffled grumble drifting from downstairs. Balling her fists, she fought the urge to just break everything in sight. One deep calming breath, another... When she had regained a semi-composed state of mind, she began rummaging around her room. Grabbing a holdall, she gathered together everything she would need. Mostly clothes, some she planned on wearing tonight including a special set of underwear for later.

The real reason she had come was for some photos, all of her and the pretty, blue-haired punk Chloe Price. Pausing, she took a moment to examine the memories. Three years worth. On the surface, they may seem like a weird fit but... Chloe was the only one Rachel trusted right now. The only person who had given her a reason to trust. Sure, they had fought plenty of times over the years, but they always made up in the end. She had never known anyone like the punk before. 

Once changed, she gave the room a final look. With no real reason to ever come back to this place now, she headed downstairs. Bag slung over her shoulder, she made for the door. Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple.

James Amber stood in front of the door, blocking her escape. "You cant keep doing this, Rachel."

"Doing what?" She didn't want to listen, but if she did it might make him drop his guard. Then, she could make a break for it.   
  
Jaw tightening, his expression became stern. "Disappearing for weeks on end, then coming back only to disappear again."

Rolling her eyes, she shifted her bag onto the other shoulder. "Well, maybe this time I won't come back. Then you don't have to wait up or anything. I'm sure that would set your mind at ease."   

"That's not even funny," he snapped, brow twitching.

"Wasn't meant as a joke, now if you'll excuse me..." she muttered, trying to push her way past.

Before she could force her way through, she felt something tug on her bag. "Where are you going?"

She glared back at her dad, who was holding her back by the strap. "Oh, don't worry _James_ , I'll still be at Blackwell. You know, since I don't exactly have a choice."

The use of his first name made him bristle. "Of course you have a choice."

"Oh yes, such a fucking choice," she hissed, fury rising. "Either stay here with someone I  _never_ want to see again or at Blackwell, since it's the only place I have after you cut my allowance. Or maybe I can go, oh I don't know, sell drugs or my body to get the cash I need. Bet you'd like that, huh."

His face turned pale at the insinuation. "No, you know I don't want you to do that. That's why I don't want you hanging around with that... delinquent. Who knows what trouble you'll get into."

"Right, can't have the DA's daughter doing such _scandalous_ things. That's all you care about. All you've  _ever_ cared about. Not mom, not me... nobody but  _yourself_. I just wish it hadn't taken me as long as it did to see that." In her rage, she yanked the holdall away from him. "Oh, and by the way. That 'delinquent'... her name is Chloe Price. My GIRLFRIEND. You better get used to that, because  _nothing_ will split us up. Don't worry about it, though. As soon as I graduate, we're getting the hell out of Arcadia. As far away from  _you_ as possible!" With that, she turned on her heel and flung the door open.  
  
"Rachel! Don't you dare go out of that door, young lady!" he called after her as she stepped outside. The demand fell on deaf ears. "Wait! Please..." That much more vulnerable call made her falter. "I'm... sorry. I don't know how many more times you want me to say it. Please, what's it going to take to get my little girl back?"

Letting out a sigh, she turned around. Her hazel eyes fell on the man who had raised her, been a damn hero sometimes. She could still remember that day, the hiking trip gone wrong where she broke her wrist. The smell of his coat, the soothing sound of his voice as he carried her... did he deserve such scorn for one mistake? She wasn't sure anymore. 

"I... don't know," she replied truthfully. "Maybe... maybe one day I'll forgive you. Maybe one day I'll need my dad... or maybe one day I'll need a favor from the DA..." her expression hardened, resolve strengthening, "but not today. And if I were you, I _wouldn't_ hold my breath."

Before she changed her mind, she headed back to Blackwell on foot. Her father didn't call after her or follow; he'd done that before and it only drove her away. Swallowing hard, she pulled her phone out and made a call. Part of her felt awful for calling Frank after... everything, but he was the only one she could rely on right now to talk.

 **"Hello,"** a familiarly gruff voice greeted.

"Hey, Frank... It's Rachel." Her voice was strained and flat, pushing back the few tears she had left. 

Something shifted then, softer. **"Just been to ya folks, I take it?"**

She managed a wet, forced laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

 **"It's not really hard to tell,"** he pointed out.

"Yeah, well..." she sighed, shoulders slumping as she walked. "I'm not sure what he expects from me, Frank."

He was quiet for a while, clearly trying to find the right words. **"Look, try not to think about that tonight. You're gonna have your hands full as it is."**

That made her sigh again. "I know..." She managed a weak and watery laugh. "You know, you're too nice considering what I did..."

She heard Frank exhale. **"Hey, I knew it was too good to last. Besides, that girl's got more balls than most guys I know."**

Rachel managed a smile at the reference to Chloe. "Yeah, and a temper to boot."

 **"Shit, don't I know it,"** he chuckled, turning more serious. **"Look, you have to tell her. Yeah, she's gonna be pissed... I think I'll make myself scarce for a few days while she cools down."**

"You're not scared of her, are you?" she asked, a mild flicker of teasing.

She could hear the half smile in his voice. **"Nope... just would rather not have that headache. I'll leave that for you."**

The blonde shook her head. "And they say chivalry is dead."

 **"Can you blame me? I'd rather my balls stayed where they were... not re-purposed as earrings or something."** Both of them knew that, while he was joking, with Chloe... that  _might_ actually happen. Or at least a good, hard kick.

"Not really..." she agreed, rubbing her face with her hand. "Fuck, I am far too sober for this."

Having plenty of experience of drunk encounters, Frank warned her against that approach. **"I wouldn't suggest getting wasted. You're gonna need a cool head."**

"I’m not planning on getting wasted. Just a few drinks to unwind before the shitstorm…" One thing she knew for certain; there  _would_ be a shitstorm.

 **"Dutch courage, huh,"** the older man replied.

"Something like that… Look, Frank, I’m sorry, okay. I shouldn’t have even thought about…" She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence.

 **"Look, I said don’t worry about it. You were doing what you thought you had to."** He let out a deep sigh. **"And shit, people have done worse for less."**

"But still… I don’t want to be that kind of person." She hated her dad for what he did, but... hadn't she been doing something similar?

Voice suddenly softer, Frank filled the silence. **"Rachel... look, you made a mistake. It happens to the best of us. I’m not saying telling her is going to be easy, but in the long run, being honest with her is for the best. For you, too."**

Frank was only telling her what she'd been telling herself for a long time. "I know, I know. It’s just… I don’t want to... Never meant to hurt her."

 **"You don't need to tell me that,"** he paused for a few seconds. **"One thing I know about Chloe, she's one tough cookie."**

"Most of her hardassness is just an act, Frank," Rachel explained, guilt eating away at her again. 

The blond man managed a half-hearted laugh.  **"In that case, you have somethin' else in common."**

Rachel went to answer, closing her mouth when she realized he had a point. "Yeah, I guess so."

When she said nothing else, he cleared his throat. **"Listen, what do you want me to do with these pictures and letters?"**

Right now, the blonde just wanted to erase the past week or two. "Do whatever you want, burn them for all I care. I just want to forget that I almost became my dad."

 **"Ouch... I’ll try not to take it personally,"** Frank muttered.

Realizing how heartless that must've sounded, Rachel backtracked. "Shit, Frank... You know I didn't mean it like that."

He managed a gruff chuckle.  **"I know... Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. I’ll keep 'em safe until you decide with a clear head. You could still use 'em for what they were intended."**

"I honestly don't know anymore…" she sighed, noticing her destination swiftly approaching. "Thanks, Frank. Look, I gotta go. I'm at Blackwell, as you can probably tell by the music."

 **"Yeah, I hear it."** There was a pause before he spoke again. **"Take care, girl. And good luck."**  
  
Taking a deep breath, Rachel steadied her resolve. "Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

Once she had hung up on Frank, she made her way into the thick of the party. A heavy bassline vibrated through her body, rocking her to the very core. It almost sounded alive. Lights flashed with piercing intensity, briefly illuminating the writhing mass of bodies dancing in a drunken stupor to the throbbing beat. Faces were illuminated, then plunged back into darkness. Both exposed and hidden, only showing a brief glimpse. A snapshot of reality.

For now, she cast aside her doubts and fears, heading straight to the drinks table. Downing her first drink in one... and the second, she took another and started her usual mingling. Almost everyone was happy to see her, except Victoria but that was nothing new. She tried to avoid the pixie blonde, not wanting her night ruined more than it already had been, but her success was limited. After some time, her attempt failed miserably. 

Victoria sauntered over, sneering. "Look what the cat dragged in. What's a slut like you doing here? Oh wait, let me guess... doing what you do best. Whoring yourself out."

Locked into her second verbal combat for the night, kind of drunk now after... however many drinks and not ready to take any prisoners, the hazel-eyed blonde scoffed. "Sounds to me like you're describing yourself,  _Tori_. I'm not the one trying to blow a teacher to get better grades."

Green eyes widened, then narrowed accompanied by a snarl. "What the fuck did you just say, bitch?"

"Hitting a little too close to the  _mark_ , huh?" Not wanting to deal with her right now, feeling woozy all of a sudden, Rachel turned around and left.

She could hear Victoria call after her, insults and demands. It wasn't even worth acknowledging. Needing some air, she stepped outside and hid away in a more secluded spot where hopefully nobody could find her. She leaned against the wall, feeling her head spin. Maybe she should've taken it easy. Too late now. Huddling up in her jacket, she felt around in her pockets for a lighter and a cigarette. When she came across the lighter she paused.

This one was Chloe's, the one she borrowed a few days ago. Worn from use, very low on lighter fluid, cheap as hell... yet it still worked. Still offered her that spark, compliant and eager. Ready to give her everything... even if she didn't deserve it...

Staring at it, she felt tears sting her eyes. "Way to fuck up everything..." she muttered, swiping at the tears clinging to her cheeks. "Can't put it off much longer."

Sighing, she pushed herself off the wall and made to head towards town. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pinch in the back of her neck. Reaching back to swat it away, the dizziness started hitting her much harder all of a sudden. She tried to speak, ask what the hell was going on, but her words came out slurred and unintelligible. Within a few moments, her knees buckled with her body following. She slammed against the grass, too numb to feel the full impact. It still hurt, though. Face firmly pressed into the ground, she tried to move onto her back to no avail. Vision blurred, her world went black around the edges. Fighting a losing battle to stay awake, she tried to focus on her surroundings. 

The last thing she saw, a vaguely familiar brown shoe. The last thing she heard, a soft grunt of exertion and shuffling. The last thing she felt, her body lifted from the cold ground.

After that, everything went dark as she lost consciousness.

* * *

A bright flash, muffled footsteps and whispered mutterings welcomed the blonde back to awareness. Pins and needles shot up both arms, which were restrained awkwardly behind her back, as her eyes struggled to adjust to her surroundings. She didn't recognize the room she found herself in, white and cold. An ominous aura hung in the air, sending goosebumps along her exposed skin.

Everything about this place felt... wrong.  _Evil_.

“Ow, my head...” Rachel muttered trying to right herself, her body refusing to respond.

"Finally awake, huh?" the voice rang out, a hint of instability.

Her blood froze, hazel eyes lazily seeking out the source. Vision still hazy, she finally noticed who was speaking. She had half-expected it, but the sight still made her feel angry. "N... Nathan..."

He offered a twisted smile, reminiscent of those depicted in horror films... except one million times scarier. "I was wondering how long it'd take. I was starting to get lonely."

It was then that she noticed the camera clenched in his hands, finger twitching over the button. In her drug-addled state, it took her longer than usual to start making assumptions. She was trapped here... wherever  _here_ was... with a highly unstable Nathan Prescott. Over the past few weeks, he'd totally gone off the rails. Shut himself away. There had been so many rumors about his drastic shift in behavior, none of them even close to this reality.

"Where...?" she croaked, a weak cough cutting her off.

Nathan approached her, long strides. "You're in the Dark Room. My father paid for it. What do you think? State of the art photo equipment. As a model, I'm sure you can appreciate it. Speaking of..." He fiddled with the camera, blue eyes clinically examining her like a predator would its prey. "I think it's time for another round of photos, don't you?"

She didn't get the chance to reply. A bright flash blinded her, making her recoil. Hands positioned her, hurting when she refused to comply. She heard the clicks, eyes invaded by sharp pinpricks of light. All the while, he muttered under his breath, totally oblivious to the real world. She had no idea what was going on in that head of his, didn't  _want_ to know. As angry as she was, she was equally terrified. Who could blame her?

Strength slowly returning, she kicked out narrowly avoiding his shin. The failed attack took a lot out of her.

Unfazed, the blond boy crouched down by her face. "Feisty. You always were. That's part of the reason why I chose you," he paused, tilting his head slightly as blue eyes pierced hazel. "I want to see the  _real_ Rachel Amber. The one behind the masks. I bet not many people have seen that girl. Maybe not even Chloe, hmm."

Hearing her name come from Nathan's lips, a twisted glee from tormenting her in this way, set a fire alight deep down inside. If her wrists and ankles were free, she would beat him black and blue. Maybe even kill him in her rage. She had an explosive temper, not best tested. And that was when her life wasn't in danger. Then dread flooded her body. What if he went after Chloe next. Right now, she didn't care about herself. For all her fuck ups, she loved the bluenette. More than anything.

If that motherfucker so much as laid  _a single finger_ on Chloe Price... she would make him  _pay_. 

At the hatred in her hazel eyes, he smiled. "There it is. There's that unadulterated rage, the unrestraint hatred... the hidden fear. The side you don't want anyone to see. Vulnerable. The best part, I can capture it all, reach out and take it... if I wanted." He moves his hand to brush her hair off her face with an almost fond smile, creepy.

Recoiling from his touch, she growled, "Fuck... you..." 

Expression stoic, he grabbed hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. "Come now, that's not nice." He scoffed, grimacing. "Then again, you're not. At first, I thought you were different, that you actually cared." Teeth gritting, his fingers dug into her cheeks making her wince. "But you're like the rest of them. You only give a shit if there is something in it for you. You _manipulate_ people to your own end without caring what happens to them, how _they_ feel." He was shaking now, not focusing on her. Eyes bloodshot, dark circles, pale skin. Now, he was practically shouting. "You  _pretend_ , but you don't care about **ANYONE!** "

His voice rang out, echoed off the walls. The worst part was, Rachel knew he was right. Well, partly. It was more complicated than that. 

Eyebrow twitching, his eyes focused on her again. He took a deep breath, leaning in close. His voice was little more than a whisper now. "Well, except yourself."

Suddenly, he forced her back down. Rachel's head crashed against the cold floor, making her groan. The impact made her head spin all over again, a dull ache shooting through her mind. Not strong enough to lift herself back up, she let her head rest limply where it landed.

When she didn't feel like she was going to throw up, she opened her eyes. "You don't... know me..." 

"Don't I?" he asked, shaking his head. Once again, he crouched down beside her, almost sympathetic. "I know you better than you think. Because we're not so different."

"We are  _nothing_ alike," she snapped, voice weaker than she wanted.

He laughed, sharp and short. "Now, that's where you are wrong. We're both fucked up, our families to blame. You're just better at hiding it. And you have people who care, unlike me." Fingers tightened on the camera, anger flickering. "A pretty face does wonders, huh. People start giving a shit."

Even in her dazed state, she could see him shaking. Rage or fear? She couldn't tell. Maybe both. 

Letting out a deep sigh, he moved over to a wheeled cart. "Anyway, I'm done talking. And don't worry, come morning you won't remember a thing."

A few clangs later, he returned with a needle. Fear flooding her body, Rachel tried to lash out. Anything to get away. It wasn't enough. Once again, she felt a sharp sting in her neck, the world slowly fading away.

"Goodnight, Rachel."

* * *

Her body felt like ice. Bare skin rubbed against dirt, something weighing her down. Ragged breath, perhaps crying. A sharp sound followed by a soft slump, another load covering her almost lifeless body. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, almost couldn't breathe. Slow suffocation. 

She would be dead soon, she could feel it. And there was nothing she could do.

The panic set in first, overwhelming. It lasted for a few moments before she realized the futility. Resigning herself to her fate, she thought of all her regrets. All the things she should have said and  _never_ have said. The people she'd fucked over, most who didn't deserve it. Her family, complicated and fucked up, but... they did love her. She knew that. Frank Bowers - a lonely man she had tried to take advantage of, who had been too good to her after what she did. 

And Chloe Price... a girl she was supposed to love but had a messed up way of showing it. Fuck, if she could go back, what would she do differently? Shit, everything. Right from their first meeting at the concert. Rachel hadn't even got the chance to apologize for what she had done. Right now, she would take getting shouted at by the bluenette and hated forever over this. 

In that moment, an old memory filtered through. Both a gift  _and_ a curse in her final moments.

* * *

_A night of unexpected improvisation and plans to run away. Doubt embedded in blue eyes, not wanting to get hurt again._

_"Chloe! What would it take to convince you?" Rachel asked, impatient._

_One step closer, serious."Give me a promise in ink."_

_Blonde eyebrows furrowed slightly, confused. "Like... a contract?"_

_"Nope." A hand eagerly grabbed Rachel's left wrist, pulling a trademark pen from her back pocket._

_Popping off the marker top, Chloe got to work. Before long, the outline of a star was visible. She let go of the blonde's wrist, returning the lid to the pen._

_Giving the ink a playful tap, she began to explain. "This is temporary. The deal is, you get it done for real. Then I'll believe you."_

* * *

If she could go back then, she'd have dragged Chloe away. Fuck the consequences. Then none of this would've happened. Maybe they could've been happy. No, they  _would_ have been happy. What ifs meant nothing now.

As the pressure built up, Rachel just wished that the people she left behind would be better off without her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> Until next time peace out


	3. The Past is Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy readers, Hope you all had a good X-mas.
> 
> Heres the next one. Enjoy

Out of nowhere, a bright flash filled the room. It almost blinded Chloe Price, sharp pinpricks searing her retinas. Temporarily blinded, she blinked to alleviate the lack of vision. The more she did, the worse it seemed to get for a time. It made her feel so vulnerable, unable to remember where she was or what she had been doing.

Once her sight returned, mostly devoid of lingering light spots, a familiar scene began unfolding before her. One that had haunted her dreams, forever changed her.

 **_“Someday dad will get one of those newfangled computers,”_ ** _she heard a much younger, blonder version of herself say as she rushed to her father’s side to check the new photo._

 **_“I hope the flash didn't scare you, Max.”_ ** _He glanced down at the photo, his grin widening in approval. **“This is a keeper.”**_

_The blue-eyed blonde unceremoniously snatched the photo from him. **“Not until I see it first. Max, tell him!”** She turned to the freckled brunette, requesting backup._

**_“That's the rules,”_ ** _Max confirmed, scrunching her nose up as she grinned._

 **_“Hmm, because Chloe is known for playing by the rule…”_ ** **_he lightly teased, getting a glare from his daughter._ ** **_“Okay, okay. No need to pout,”_ ** _William chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat. **“Well, Captain Chloe, what’s the verdict?”**_

It was so surreal watching all this. Herself, Max and William smiling and joking. Like they used to. When her world was still bright and hopeful, not a void of false promises and wasted potential. It had been… shit, five years now since this day. Yet, it felt so… real, like it was happening right before her eyes. That was crazy; William had been dead for years and Max had long since fucked off to Seattle, not even the initial smatterings of half-hearted contact lingering; but…

_Studying the picture, the young blonde attempted to keep a smirk off her face as she passed the photo back to her father. **“Hmm, I guess it passes.”**_

**_“Captain Chloe's order is final,”_ ** _Max affirmed giving a salute._

 **_“Well, I guess that settles it then.”_ ** _The blond man smiled, returning to cooking pancakes._

_A high-pitched ring echoed through the hallway. William halted his food making, handing the spatula to the young blonde while he answered the phone._

Panic rose in her body, stomach churning. A cold sweat began building up on paler than usual skin. She knew what came next. _‘No… no, please. Not this. Not… anything but this.’_

Unfortunately, her pleas were ignored. As always. There was no stemming the flood of her memories.

 **_“Hey Max, can you grab those plates?”_ ** _Chloe asked, pointing out the plate stack as she poked the golden-brown pancake currently cooking. **“These bad boys are nearly done.”**_

 **_“Aye aye, captain,”_ ** _the brunette said cheerily as she grabbed the indicated plates._

 **_“Oh, hi honey. Oh, I didn't realize we needed groceries. Sure, I'll come pick you up.”_ ** _Finishing up the conversation, William poked his head into the kitchen. **“Excuse me, ladies. I have to go rescue yonder Queen at the sav-mart. She doth have many bags of delicious grub for us to feast upon.”**_

She willed her younger self to do something, _say something_ to stop him from leaving. The second he left that door, his fate would be sealed. Of course, it already had been. Long ago. Didn’t stop her from wanting to try and change… everything.

It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion… or a car crash. Unable to do anything other than brace yourself and hope the universe was kind.

She already knew it wouldn’t be this time.

_Chloe watched with a fond smile as her younger self scoffed. **“You are ridiculous.”**_

**_“You’ll be grateful for that someday,”_ ** _he replied, approaching the table to search amongst the papers. **“Shit, where are my keys?”**_

 **_“That's a dollar for the swear jar!”_ ** _she exclaimed mischievously, happy to have caught her dad out._

 **_“You mean your college fund,”_ ** _William called back before muttering to himself. **“-keys, please.”**  He quickly located them hiding under his baseball cap on the coffee table.  **“A-ha! You can't hide from me forever!”**_

_As William passed the kitchen he stopped, giving the girls a knowing smile. **“And no Chloe and Max wine tasting sessions...”**_

**_“Dad,”_ ** _the young blonde began to protest only to get interrupted._

 **_“Don't blow it because tonight your mother promised to make her world-famous salmon surprise with chocolate cake for dessert.”_ ** _He turned his attention to the shorter girl. **“Max, you'll be here too, right?"**_

 **_“She's never leaving me,”_ ** _the blonde girl answered for her with a grin._

 **_“That makes all of us,”_ ** _he added as the front door creaked open._

That unintentional lie cut deep, opened old semi-healed wounds. Every time they started to heal, her mind dragged up the past or the present adding a new addition to the tapestry of scars.

 _‘You promised you wouldn’t leave me,’_ the bluenette recalled, sorrow flooding her body. _‘You fucking promised, dad. Why did you say that?’_

The next few moments blurred together, a jumble of strange colors and sounds. No matter how had the bluenette tried to focus, it was impossible to distinguish. Was it laughter or crying? Why could she never remember this part? Like something was blocking her memory.

A few moments later, the distortion cleared.

_Both girls stood in the hallway, confounded. The young blonde shook it off first, grabbing the brunette’s hand to yank her into the kitchen. **“C’mon, those pancakes are gonna get cold.”**_

**_“Okay.”_ ** _Max nodded, allowing herself to get pulled along. As they were plating up, she noticed her friend kept glancing up at her with a slight frown. **“Have I got something on my face?”**_

 **_“No, just…”_ ** _the blonde shook her head, swallowing hard. **“You look like you’ve been crying.”**_

_Reaching up to touch her still slightly damp, tear-streaked face, her eyebrows knitted together. **“Huh, that’s weird… I don’t recall. So do you, now you mention it.”**_

**_“Nuh-uh, Chloe Price doesn’t cry,”_ ** _the blonde shot back, turning away as she wiped her eyes._

 _Honestly, this confused her._ _'Why would we be crying?'_  the bluenette thought to herself.  _'It's not like we knew what was going to happen.'_

The scene around her changed, a swirling transition. It was later the same day as far as she could tell. Confirmed when the image before her finally gained clarity. She watched as her younger self and Max were drawing at the table, both giggling carefree and happy.

Little did they know it wouldn’t last long…

 **_“So, you staying over tonight?”_ ** _she asked, sounding hopeful._

 **_“Of course!”_ ** _the brunette announced without hesitation, cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. **“Unless… you don't want me to.”**_

 **_“Duh, of course I want you to. Hell, I'd have you living here if I could,”_ ** _Chloe admitted confidently._

_That made Max scoff. **“Yeah, cuz my mom and dad would LOVE that. They moan about me spending so much time over here already.”**_

**_“I know my mom and dad wouldn't mind...”_ ** _Chloe was interrupted by a knock at the door. Sighing, she got down from the table and went to answer._

“Don't answer it!” the bluenette practically screamed, sitting bolt upright.

Her heart pounded in her ears, skin clammy. It took a few moments to realize where she was, her room. A gentle morning breeze filtered through the open window adorned with her faded American flag. Empty bottles, clothes and crumpled scraps of paper – mostly missing person posters – were strewn across the floor.

Rubbing her face, she glanced over at her alarm clock. It was almost mid-day.  _'Why can't I remember what happened? And why do I keep dreaming of her?'_

Every day for the last five years, it had been the same dream. So frustrating. Part of her hated this limbo state, not knowing what was missing. The other part…

"Ugh, why am I doing this to myself? She left you, Chloe, so why even think about her?" she growled, getting to her feet.

Rubbing her face with her hands again, she found some clothes. Nothing special, a pair of tattered jeans a white skull shirt. Not bothering to brush her hair or freshen up, she grabbed her phone and sat down on the edge of her bed. Checking her Facebook feed, she sighed in disappointment at the lack of notifications.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an old picture of herself flipping off the camera and a hazel-eyed blonde, blue feather earring dangling. Her heart plummeted in her chest, feeling the familiar sting of tears in her eyes.

She had none left to cry.

"What's happened to you, Rachel?" she muttered under her breath as she let old memories take her away to a faraway land. The past.

_The soft click-clack of a train rang out as the long-haired blonde shifted onto the floor. **“Let’s do something fun.”**_

_Sitting on a wooden crate, her sixteen-year-old self smirked. **“V-card’s been punched, Rachel. I’m sorry.”**_

_Hazel eyes widened, unexpectant. **“Wow.”**_

**_“Too far?”_ ** _Chloe asked, seemingly worried that she had fucked up already._

_Taking a second to compose herself, Rachel shrugged. **“Well, I don’t know…”**_

_Eager to pass over the half-joke, the aspiring punk cleared her throat. **“Okay, something fun. I’m all ears.”**_

_Acting as if nothing had happened, Rachel continued her original point. **“Two truths and a lie.”**_

_After briefly explaining the rules, she made her three statements. Ambidextrous, born in New York and a Leo. Picking apart her claims, Chloe made a correct guess on New York. Then, it was her turn._

_‘Two truths… and a lie…’_ the older bluenette version of herself pondered.  _‘I… what did I even say back then?’_

_She supposed she would find out soon enough._

**_“I used to want to be a pirate when I grow up. I kind of still do,”_ ** _her younger self admitted, a little sheepish._

 **_“Arrrr,”_ ** **_the blonde growled, doing her best pirate impression._ **

_That earned a smile before moving onto the next truth. **“I used to love country music when I was a kid. Now it makes me want to throw up. Literally.”**_

**_“That’s… weird,”_ ** _Rachel hesitantly replied, swinging her feet over the edge of the train carriage they had stowed away in._

Two truths had been told. Now, for the lie.

_The bluenette watched her younger self go to speak, suddenly faltering. Whatever she had been about to say was trapped in her throat. Her face crumpled slightly, clearly debating something. Rachel watched her, patient and curious._

**_“I… I’m happy. Happy with the way my life has gone and is going. I’m not lonely, scared or depressed. My home doesn’t feel like a prison. My dad, he didn’t leave. My friend didn’t fuck me over…”_ ** _She exhaled shakily, closing her eyes as tears stung. **“Everything is… perfect.”**_

 _‘I don’t… remember saying that. Any of that. I… what’s going on?’_ the bluenette asked herself, memories mixing with emotions and unspoken thoughts.

_For some time, they sat there in silence. Only the wind and metallic clicking for company. Eventually, Rachel turned to her with a sad smile. **“Nothing’s perfect.”**_

Everything faded into mist before reforming. Everything was black, faint echoey knocking and someone calling her name. It was Rachel. They were in the junkyard, more specifically Chloe found herself in an old beat up truck. She had fallen asleep.

The hazel eyed girl got in the passenger’s side, the pair discussing the events which had led to Chloe’s expulsion from Blackwell and David’s intention to move in permanently.

 **_“You know what we could both use now? Therapy,”_ ** _the shorter girl stated softly._

_That piqued the aspiring punk’s interest. **“Therapy?”**_

_Adopting a more cheerful tone, Rachel shuffled on the seat. **“You start. Kick back and tell me what’s bothering you.”**_

_Deciding to humor her, Chloe laid back with her legs across the modelesque blonde’s lap, one hand behind her head. **“Well, doc…”**_

_Her concerns came oozing out, from the man invading her home to the abrupt booting from school and the fire now ravaging Arcadia’s forest._

As her younger self finished up, a bunch of vague worries surfaced in the bluenette’s mind. None of which she could pick out and hold down. One thing she was pretty sure of… they were unrelated to this memory. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t pinpoint it.

Things that… never happened?

It felt like she had forgotten something important. Like, when you woke up from a dream you just couldn’t remember. The feelings where there, but no context.

Pushing them aside for now, she headed downstairs. Obsessing over it never helped; it just made her feel more lost. Hungry, she grabbed a mug of coffee with plenty of milk and sugar alongside a bowl of cereal. Wolfing the latter and chugging the former, she dumped the used mug and bowl into the sink for later.

Patting down her pockets, she found her cigarettes and made a move towards the backyard. That was, until there was a knock at the front door. Groaning at the timing, she turned on her heel. When she was halfway across the hallway, another loud impatient thud demanded her attention.

"Sheesh, gimme a damn minute," she grumbled as she flung the door open. “What do you…?”

The sentence remained unfinished at the sight of her visitor. Well, visitors. A short blonde-haired girl with a blue feather earring. Slumped against her was a brunette, She did  _not_ look good, body weight entirely supported by the modelesque blonde.

 _‘What the actual fuck is happening now?’_ Stunned, Chloe stared at them. Words failed her, only able to squeak out a confused, “Rachel?”

The blonde smiled at her, as casual as anything. Not acting like she’d been missing for months on end with no contact. “Hey, Chloe. Long time, no see. I think I found something, uh… someone you lost.” She nodded her head to the almost passed out girl, shifting her weight slightly.

It took a moment to realize just  _who_ this other girl was. When Chloe put two and two together, her heart stopped. "Max!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Drops mic and walks out*
> 
> Here we go
> 
> Peace out


	4. Kiss and Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while folk's, Slowly trying to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> Anyways here's the next one, Now where did I drop that mic?

The long-haired blonde stood there, the brunette slumped against her. She watched Chloe’s expression shift through a million different emotions, none of which stayed for longer than a moment. The cogs in her mind whirred, trying to comprehend. Feeling Max’s weight more with each passing second, Rachel cleared her throat.

“So, are you gonna invite me in or what?” she asked, trying to sound light-hearted with limited success.

Those were the same words she used all those years ago. When the blue-haired punk first found her truck, already starting to fix it up so they could escape. A journey they had never managed. One they may never have made if fate had been allowed to toy with their lives. Unchallenged.

Chloe stood there, stunned into silence. The sight of Rachel alone was enough of a shock _without_ the freckled brunette barely standing on her own two feet. What the fuck was she supposed to say or think? Two people who had been abruptly ejected from her life just… there. Close enough to touch.

Part of her wanted to rush them both, grab them and hold on never to let them go again. The other part wanted… no _demanded_ answers. For the six months of silence from the blonde and the five years’ worth of on-off half-hearted contact. Eventually, the rage won, snapping her out of her frozen state.

Fists clenching, a deep frown appeared on her brow. “Where the _fuck_ have you been? Six months, Rachel. Six _fucking_ months? Not even a single text. Do you know how worried I’ve been? What… what I thought happened to you…” Her voice faltered at the end, blue eyes stinging with tears.

She had tried _so damn hard_ to find Rachel Amber. Even when everyone else gave up. Blackwell, the police, her fucking family… Chloe had refused to let it go. The blonde meant too much to her. Unlike everyone else, she actually cared. Arcadia was full of fake assholes.

Rachel let her vent, not saying a word. It hurt to see Chloe so angry and in pain… all because of her. How much anguish had she caused?

Shifting the unconscious girl resting against her, Rachel let out a soft sigh. “Chloe Elizabeth Price. Please don’t ever change.” Before the punk could tear into her again, she continued, “I know you want… deserve answers, but can we please not do it out here.”

What she had to tell Chloe was _insane_. Unbelievable. They needed to sit down and talk it out where no-one else could hear.

Crossing her arms, the bluenette blocked the door frame. “Oh no, we do this right here, right now.”

“Chloe…” the blonde called out softly, trying to make her see reason.

“NO!” she exclaimed, much louder than intended. “You _don’t_ get to waltz back into my life and dictate when I get fucking explanations.”

Her body shook, a mix of anger, relief and fear. Just what the hell had Rachel been thinking? Where did she go? And _why_ did she have Max Caulfield with her of all people?

Another voice entered the fray, weak yet audible. “Chloe.”

The vulnerability in her childhood best friend’s voice triggered an old memory. A much younger brunette bedridden with the flu.

* * *

_Today had been a total drag._

_Max hadn’t come to school. The young blonde had gone round to her house before school, told by Vanessa Caulfield that her daughter was ill. When she tried to stay there, the older woman had shooed her away telling her not to miss school and that if she wanted to help, she could grab Max’s work to catch up._

_Chloe counted down the seconds till the bell, packing up with lightning speed as soon as she heard the high-pitched sound. Shoving her workbook in her bag along with Max’s work, she practically sprinted towards the Caulfield house. When she got there, she was a little out of breath._

_Confidently, she knocked on the door. Hanging around for a moment, she had to stop herself from pushing past when it opened._

_Ryan answered this time, only just in from work. “Ah, Chloe. Come in.” He stepped aside, letting her inside. “I’m sure Max will be happy to see you.”_

_He moved to the kitchen, clattering around and returning with a tray. On it were two bowls of steaming stew, some sizable hunks of bread and two glasses of orange juice._

_“I’m sure you guys will be hungry. Nothing better for fighting colds than my ma's vegetable stew,” he explained with a tired smile as he held the tray out. “Why don’t you take it up for her?”_

_“Sure.” Eagerly, Chloe took the tray and headed upstairs to Max’s room._

_Bounding up, nearly spilling it, she gently opened the door to her friend’s bedroom. It was dark, curtains shut. Softly closing the door, very unlike her usual barge and invade approach, she put the tray on the bedside table. Her freckled friend was asleep, looking very pale._

_“Max,” she called out, carefully giving her shoulder a poke._

_The younger girl stirred, blue eyes bleary. “Ch-” She curled up into a mini coughing fit. “Chloe.”_

_“I’m here. And I brought food.” She motioned towards the tray. “Oh, and work.” Digging around in her bag, she pulled out the papers and put them on a nearby desk. “That part’s not so fun.”_

_Helping her friend get comfortable and pulling up a chair for herself, Chloe handed out the food. They ate and chatted about their days, Max’s mostly spent sleeping. When they had finished, the blonde moved the empty bowls over, put her bag on the chair and wedged herself in beside her friend._

_“Chloe, you’ll get it,” Max protested weakly as she climbed in under the covers._

_“Pfft, a simple cold can’t defeat Chloe Price,” the older girl stated confidently, pulling out a comic._

_They had been reading it together, taking it in turns to get a copy with their pocket money. Chloe had yet to read it, waiting for Max. Normally, they both did silly voices. To her credit, the brunette tried and almost coughed up a lung as a reward for her hubris. As a result, Chloe took over and voiced the entire cast solo._

_By the end, she realized Max had fallen asleep. Under different circumstances, she would poke the other girl until she woke._

_This time, she snuggled up close and joined her sleeping friend. “Get better soon, Max.”_

_Despite her pride fuelled reassurances, Chloe came down with the cold over the next couple of days. But she didn’t mind so much since Max was there to look after her._

_She was the best medicine._

* * *

Her anger fizzled out almost instantly, all ammunition lost to a voice she had dreamed of hearing again for five long years. Escaping the hazy memories, she turned back to face the two girls. When she did, she found the brunette less than a foot away standing on her own two feet. Blue eyes were sunken, zombified.

Max staggered forward, almost losing her balance. The blonde was quick to her side, ready to offer support if needed. After an unsteady moment, she stabilized. With a slightly shaking hand, she reached up to touch the punk’s cheek.

Instinctively, Chloe leaned into it feeling the warmth of her skin. Blue eyes closed, enveloped by a dreamy haze. If this was a dream, she didn’t want it to end. Never. She was barely aware of the brunette standing on her tip toes, bringing her face much closer. Until it was too late. Blue eyes opened wide when she felt an unfamiliar yet familiar pair of warm lips press against hers, unmoving.

Her body froze up, refusing to obey even a single command. Her breath hitched, brain frantically trying to process what was happening.

_'She's kissing me... Max is… kissing me.'_

As if a switch had been flipped, a veil lifted. A powerful memory surged to the forefront of her mind, engulfing all her senses. The brunette and blonde in front of her faded along with the street and houses, replaced with a familiar sight. A dream that had haunted her for five years.

Chloe was trapped in her younger body, not just observing like before in her dreams, forced to watch her father leaving. For the last time. She was unable to do anything else other than observe.

 **_"Don't blow it because tonight your mother promised to make her world-famous salmon surprise with chocolate cake for dessert. Max, you'll be here to right."_ ** _The familiar words resounded in her mind, cutting deep._

 ** _"She's never leaving me,”_** _she found herself confidently stating. A lie._  
  
_**"That makes all of us,”** William replied with a warm smile._

_'Liar,' Chloe thought bitterly as she watched her father leave._

_This was usually the point where everything went fuzzy and weird. Instead this time, she noticed the younger brunette leaning against the wall, tears running down her cheeks._

_Her heart sank, wondering just what the hell was happening right now. **"Max, you are being so fucking strange, like you’re never going to see us again."**_

**_"Chloe, I'm so sorry,”_ ** _Max apologized through cascading tears. **“I tried to make things different for you... I... I did try... I'm sorry.”**_

_The young blonde was totally confused by this. **"I don't know exactly what** **you’re talking about, but come on. You have made things different, like my whole life. You're my best friend. I've got you and a great family. What’s to be sorry for? We'll be best friends forever. And when we grow up, we're taking over the world.”**_

**_"Listen, whatever happens, I want you to be strong. Even if you feel like I wasn’t there for you... because I will never abandon you, Chloe. I'll always have your back. Always,"_ ** _Max insisted, firm and determined._

_Confusion flooded her mind, overwhelming. **"Max, I still** **don’t follow."**_

_Clearly having difficulty explaining her state, Max tried to get her tears under control. **"I'm so, so sorry Chloe, but... it's William, today's the day... The day he dies."**_

**_"Is this some kind of joke?"_ ** _The blonde frowned questioningly. This was way too dark for the Max she knew._

 **_"I wish it was... but there’s more. I really wish it wasn’t so but... I'm going away but I'll be back. I promise. You just have to wait for me and I know... I know it’s not fair, but your gonna have to wait for me, and I’m afraid it’s a really long... wait,”_ ** _the brunette sobbed, unable to hold the flood back any longer._

 **_"Max. You’re starting to scare me,"_ ** _she responded shakily, her own eyes beginning to well up. **"How long?"**_

_The brunette didn’t answer straight away, biting her lip as she tried to fight back the tears. Failing._

**_"Max, HOW long?"_ ** _Chloe demanded, angrier than she intended._

 **_"Five years,"_ ** _Max choked out between sobs._

 **_"Wha... this isn't real. It can't be real,"_ ** _Chloe sobbed, taking a step backwards. She didn’t want to believe this. Any of this._

 **_"It is Chloe,”_ ** _the brunette confirmed with watery blue eyes. **“I am so, so sorry, but you will know it’s true when the time comes.”**_

_The young blonde shook her head slowly, trying so desperately to deny it. The way Max was looking at her, so earnest and intense, it was impossible to refuse the truth._

**_“Remember this date. October 4 th, 2013. Remember, and I will do everything in my power to make your future brighter. I swear it."_ ** _The brunette sobbed, taking a step closer to Chloe. **"I will always be here, Chloe Price. In any timeline."** _

_With that, she stretched up on her tiptoes planting a kiss on the stunned blonde’s lips. Blue eyes widened, not sure how to react. Her heart raced, body frozen in place. What the hell was happening?_

_A few seconds later, both girls were stood looking at each other a little bewildered. The blonde quickly shaking it off as she grabbed Max's hand yanking her into the kitchen. **"Come on, the pancakes are gonna get cold.”**_

_Max nodded as she allowed herself to get pulled along. **"Okay."** _

Memory fading to white, Chloe gradually became aware of her surroundings once more. Max was slumped against the hazel-eyed blonde, looking thoroughly exhausted.

Stunned, the blue-haired punk tried to comprehend. Aka having a mini mental breakdown. _'What the fuck? How is that.... did that actually happen?'_

“Chloe… Chloe!” The familiar voice pulled her from her panic, aqua eyes vaguely landing on Rachel.

The bluenette blinked a few times giving her head a sharp shake, looking at the blonde in bewilderment. "Uuuh…"

"Chloe... we good?” she asked, trying to get Chloe to focus properly.

 Still too stunned to respond, Chloe just stood motionless staring at the two girls as the recently unlocked memory played out again and again. _'This isn't possible.'_

“CHLOE!” Rachel shouted, snapping the punk out of her trance.

“Uh, sorry, what were you…?” she faltered, brain feeling like it was about to explode from the illogical situation she’d found herself in.

"Are we good?" Rachel repeated firmly.

Honestly, Chloe didn’t know how to answer that. “I… kinda? Maybe? No? Shit… I don’t know.”

“Well, can we come in? She’s heavier than she looks.” Rachel nodded towards the passed out girl, fully supporting her weight.

Putting her confusion aside, the punk focused on the here and now. “Yeah, sure. Here, lemme help.”

Between them, they managed to get Max inside the house and up the stairs to Chloe’s room. Carefully, they laid her out on the bed. The blue-haired girl stared at her old friend, wondering just what had happened in the past six months… no, five years.

Whatever it was, she was certain it would be a total mindfuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time.
> 
> Peace out


	5. X Marks the Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's number 5.
> 
> Enjoy

Still bewildered, Chloe stood in her room. Her eyes were transfixed on the brunette curled up in her bed. In her sleep, Max was clutching the pillow so tight, mumbling incoherently. The gentle melody of Santa Monica Dream echoed throughout the room, creating a relaxed aura. Glancing over at the stereo, Rachel smiled gently as hazel eyes settled on the unconscious brunette... a smile that gradually shifted to sadness. 

"It helps her sleep. Sadly, it doesn't help much," she said softly. Turning to the taller girl, she grabbed her hand gently leading her out of the room. "Come on, I need a smoke."

Allowing herself to get pulled along, Chloe passed a final glance at the sleeping brunette on her bed as they left the room. As much as she wanted answers, it was difficult leaving Max like this alone. Even after everything, the years of radio silence. Maybe part of her was scared that if she turned her back for just a second, the brunette would disappear again. She'd realize all this was a dream.

Pushing aside the doubt, she followed Rachel downstairs and through the house. Chloe's mind reeled, the same event playing out in her head in stereo - two different versions. Before she could think about it more, they were in the backyard. Rachel stood just a few feet from her.

"So, you wanna tell... mhphhh-" Chloe was cut off as the blonde turned and crushed her lips against hers.

Blue eyes widened, not sure how to react. She hadn't seen Rachel in so long. So many emotions boiled underneath the surface. Rage, relief... lust. In that moment, she forgot the anger and betrayal. Instead, she gave in to the months of loneliness and succumbed to Rachel. Their lips locked firmly, tongues dancing. Honestly, Chloe was surprised by the intensity, but also the hint of tenderness there too... and  _a lot_ of passion. It blew her away, turned her mind to mush. She'd never shared a kiss like this with Rachel... or anyone, really. 

Rachel grasped onto her tightly, reassuring herself that Chloe was actually there. It had been... too long since she saw her bluenette. God, how she'd missed her. With everything that had happened up until now, she might never have seen her again. Not without Max. That reality fueled her kiss, putting all the feeling she could into it. As much love as she could possibly muster.

Reluctantly, the blonde pulled back but kept close. She rested her head on Chloe's chest, murmuring. "Sorry... I just, really fucking missed you."

"I missed you too," Chloe whispered, the confusion and questions slowly returning. "Where the fuck have you been, Rachel?"

Breaking away, Rachel searched her pockets and took out a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Chloe, fishing the old battered lighter out of her pocket. Lighting it up, she took a deep hit. As she did, she watched Rachel take a seat on the old childhood swing, the frame groaning in protest as the blonde got her own cigarette lit.

"Recognize it?" Rachel asked with an apologetic smile, wiggling the worn blue lighter in her fingers. "It's had a few refills since you last saw it."

"I'm not really bothered about an old lighter, Rachel." The hint of a smile tugging at the bluenette's lips. "Surprised it's still going, to be honest."

"Couldn't bring myself to throw it away... heh, Max even bought me a new Zippo one," she tapped her jacket pocket fondly, "but I always use this one. Guess it just made me feel closer to you."

"Since when have you and Max been all buddy buddy?" Chloe asked, the question more pointed that she intended, causing the blonde to recoil slightly.

Considering Max and Rachel weren't  _supposed_ to know each other - had both gone missing in her life at perhaps the worst time possible - she couldn't understand it. What the hell had they been up to? How did they meet?  _And why hadn't they gotten in touch sooner?_

Rachel took a deep breath, preparing herself. "For that answer, I'm going to have to tell you a... hella crazy story."

"Oh, this should be good," Chloe mumbled dryly, eager for answers. 

Glad for the chance to explain herself, the blonde began, "Before I do though there is something else I have to tell you, something you're not going to believe. Max is... special."

That was an understatement on so many levels, some of which she would keep to herself for now. Perhaps forever.  
  
"Special?" Chloe repeated, feeling a sudden twang of jealousy.

Over the past three years, she had been incredibly protective of her relationship with Rachel. Anyone who threatened it even in the slightest incurred her wrath. Add Max into the mix - who, even after all this time, still laid claim to a place in her heart however much she tried to shake her - and it became a complicated mess. 

Picking up on the shift, Rachel sighed. Maybe she should have considered her wording more carefully. "Don't be like that, Chloe."

"Like what?" the bluenette swiftly countered, trying to cover up the obvious envy. When it came to Rachel, she found it almost impossible to suppress how she felt.

"Jealous," Rachel stated, wanting to nip that in the bud. When Chloe Price got jealous, you could guarantee that something would be broken. Neither of them was great at expressing themselves in a calm way. Before the bluenette could even protest, she was cut off. "I can see it in your eyes, Chloe. Its... " Rachel paused as if debating something, "It's not like that."

Chloe wanted to trust her, more than anything, but it was hard when there were so many questions. "Then what _is_ it like?"

Uncertain how to start, frustrating for someone who had been so good with words until this point, Rachel clumsily recited her thoughts aloud. "I've... only ever lied to you about one thing, Chloe... and I'm not proud of it. NOT something I intend on repeating. So, here goes."

That made Chloe frown, mind whirring. "Wait, lied to me onc-?"

Rachel didn't give her the chance to finish. That would come later. "Max is a time traveler."

Those words made her forget the question she just wanted to ask, stunning her. What the hell was Rachel on about? Was she super high or something? That had to be it. "Is that the best you've got? Time travel, really?"

Even for Rachel, this was too big a pile of bullshit to pull off. She was good, but not _that_ good. It made Chloe angry, not getting straight answers. How could she trust someone who said shit like that out of the blue? Stuff that belonged in games and films, not real life. 

Expecting the resistance - shit, if she hadn't seen it and so much more herself, she'd be the same - Rachel nodded earnestly. "How else do you explain what she did not ten minutes ago, Chloe?" There was no hint of playful teasing in her expression, deadly serious. 

 _“Remember this date. October 4th, 2013. Remember, and I will do everything in my power to make your future brighter. I swear it."_ The brunette's voice echoed as Chloe reached for her phone, checking the date. Words failed her as she checked the date: October 4th, 2013.

"Max calls it a time lock," Rachel revealed, trying to relieve some of the confusion. "She goes back in time and says something to someone. By concentrating on that moment, she can... not erase it, but move it out of focus. It's there, but you subconsciously ignore it, I guess. Physical contact helps her maintain the lock for longer periods of time. But..." her face shifted, worried, "it has a downside."

Chloe did _not_ like the sound of that. "Downside?"

Seeming to fold in on herself, Rachel continued, "At first, we started practicing with just a day. Then a few days, a week, a month. Eventually, time would catch up with her. Our last attempt was three months worth... she was out cold for a whole day. Five years is much worse." Hazel eyes softened as she inhaled smoke, letting it seep between her lips. "Even with the gradually increasing recovery time, I doubt she'll gain consciousness until tomorrow, unless..."

"Unless?" Chloe prompted, not letting her get away with half-finished answers.

Swinging gently, Rachel swallowed back tears. This was much harder to talk about than anticipated. She thought she was ready for this, or maybe she was just fooling herself. 

"Unless what, Rachel?" the punk insisted, trying to curb her frustration with limited success. "Please, tell me what's going on here. I'm... fucking freaking out, okay. I need to know what's happened these past few months."

"Chloe... Max has been through a lot. More than anyone ever should. Nightmare fuel. I've... not had an easy ride but she..." Wiping away the tears with her sleeve, she finished off her thought with a morbid sense of duty. "Just... if you hear her screaming, don't panic. I know what to do."

The punk froze up, wondering what could've possibly broken both Max and Rachel this much. Instinctively, she threw her half-smoked cigarette to the ground, joined the blonde on the seesaw of the swing set and took her hand for reassurance. Even if she was angry, seeing the blonde like this bypassed everything other than a desire to stop her from crying. 

Rachel gave her hand a squeeze, feeling more secure already. "I... don't even know where to start."

"The beginning is usually a good place," Chloe replied, managing a weak level of lighthearted teasing.

Not reacting to the attempt at humor, Rachel sighed. "But whose beginning? Max's, I guess. October 7th, this coming Monday." Suddenly, she tensed up. "By the way, that meeting with Nathan is _so_ not happening."

"How did you...?" There was _no way_ Rachel could know about that.

The blonde actually managed a slight smile, wistful. "Time traveler asleep in your bed."

Chloe didn't say anything, still not able to fully believe it. As much as it defied logic, she could tell that Rachel wasn't lying. Or at least, she believed what she was saying. 

Noting her silence, Rachel took that as a cue to continue, "Monday is... was the day you... died." The last word was quiet, only just loud enough to make out.

Blue eyes shot open wide, mind blank as the words echoed.  _Dead_. All she could manage was a stuttered "Wait, what... how...?" several moments later.

Wincing, Rachel gripped onto Chloe's hand tighter. "Nathan. He shot you. Max was there, hiding in the corner. Her power triggered. With it, she saved you."

Max had... saved her? Her heart lept, confusion flooding her. What the actual fuck was going on? "I... I'm going to die?"

Hazel eyes shifted from sadness to fierce and protective determination. "No. You won't. Not this time."  
  
Rachel spent the next... however long summarizing the rest of Max's story. One she'd heard before. Such an insane and surreal set of events. All the while, Chloe listened silently, gradually working her way through the cigarette packet with Rachel's help. From the bathroom shooting to... Rachel's fate... all the way to the day of the tornado, Chloe convincing Max to let her go to save Arcadia Bay.

When she had finished, the blonde swung back and forth on the balls of her feet, waiting for a reaction.

Thoroughly blown away, Chloe tried to sort everything out in her head before responding. "Let's say I believe all of this..."

"You don't?" Rachel asked, understanding her reluctance. "You witnessed it first hand, Chloe." She motioned back to the house, where Max was sleeping.  
  
As much as Chloe didn't want to admit it, there was no logical explanation she could come up with for... whatever she had seen earlier. "I don't know what that was but... time travel? Come on, you really believe that?"

Rachel nodded, no hint of hesitation. "I do, seen it first hand. I guess a more practical demonstration might-"  
  
She didn't get the chance to finish that sentence, words cut off by a terrified scream. It echoed through the air, coming from inside the house. It was... bone-chilling, worse than any horror movie depiction. 

"Shit..." The sound made Rachel spring to her feet, sending the swing seat flying behind her. 

Not waiting to see if Chloe was following or not, she raced back into the house and shot upstairs. The bluenette took a second to act, hot on her heels. When they reached her bedroom door, Rachel turned to her. The only thing her eyes, face and body portrayed was earnest concern. 

"Remember, let me handle it."

Chloe nodded, watching her open the door. Her heart sank as blue eyes fell on the crying curled up form on her bed. Max's body shook, tears staining her face. She didn't even seem to realize they were there, too engrossed in her breakdown. Rachel carefully approached her, gently wrapping her arms around the brunette and stroking her head, focusing on the left side.

"You're okay, Max. Wherever you were then, you aren't there now," she reassured soothingly.

Silently, Max pushing up the right sleeve of Rachel's jacket, exposing her pale forearm. Blue eyes settled on it, unwavering. She was clearly looking for something. 

The blonde shook her head, showing the star tattoo on her left wrist. "How many times do I have to tell you its the other wrist? Six months of reminding doesn't seem to have helped, though." Her flicker of humor faded away. "I was hoping you'd get a little more sleep than that."

Not even bothering to defend her memory, Max's voice turned to a soft whisper, afraid to remind herself of her pain aloud. That way, she couldn't even try to pretend they were just... figments of her imagination. "Hard to when...  _he's_ always there."

Rachel knew what Max was thinking about. No need to elaborate. The Dark Room... and Jefferson. An icy shiver ran down her spine, brief flashes of her own living nightmare forcing its way to the foreground. After a few moments of gentle rocking for both their benefits, Rachel heard shuffling behind her. Then she remembered Chloe was here. Turning back, she beckoned the taller girl over. Max's watery blue eyes focused on her, not sure what to say.  
  
Pulling up her desk chair, Chloe sat down beside the bed. For a long time, she simply stared at Max. The girl she had been so close to, then felt betrayed by for so many years. Part of her wanted to shout, explain to the brunette just how much she needed her in those five years of radio silence. She refrained, focusing on the here and now.

Instead, she leveled Max with as steady a stare as she could. "I'm still not convinced."

The brunette turned her attention to Rachel, enquiring. "How much did you tell her?"  
  
"Everything that happened to you during that week," Rachel replied stiffly. "Up to when you went back and re-set everything."

"You think I'm making this up... understandable." With a sigh and slightly pink cheeks, Max caught Rachel eye. "I can't believe I have to resort to this again."

"Hey, plan B worked on me," the blonde pointed out. "Words alone were never going to be enough."

"What worked on you?" Chloe asked, more than a little nervous now.

Rachel turned to her with her trademark enigmatic, mischievous smirk. "You'll see."

When Chloe looked at Max again, she had shifted position slightly. Too quick to register the actual movement. She was still next to Rachel, visibly pinker than she had been moments ago.

Confused, the bluenette frowned. "Hit me whenever."

"Missing anything, Chloe?" the blonde asked, her demeanor reminiscent of the Rachel Amber Chloe had met three years ago.

"Uh... not that I..." Her answer was cut short as Max produced a familiar black bra from underneath the blanket. Set to Rachel's soft chuckle, she checked underneath her top to find her bra gone. "What. The. Actual. Fuck."

More hesitant this time, the brunette pulled out a pair of orange and black panties. "I... hasten to add these were your idea."

Completely stunned, Chloe looked between them. Max was about as red as she felt, Rachel appearing to be enjoying this little display. Of course she would.

"So, you believe us now?" Rachel's amusement rapidly disappeared when she noticed how pale Chloe had turned, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Chloe..."

"You... really died." Chloe didn't realize how much three words could hurt until that moment of realization.

Hearing Chloe say that truth was... so damn painful. "Yes, I did."

At Rachel's coaxing, the punk joined them on the bed. It took her a moment to trust her voice again, turning to Max. "And you... saved her. Me. You didn't... forget."

"I'd never forget about you, Chloe. _Ever,_ " Max stated firmly, no sign of hesitation.  
  
Unable to hold back any longer, the punk launched herself at the two girls on the bed, wrapping her arms around each of them as she nuzzled the blonde's neck. "I thought... I feared the worst... and it actually happened. Every time I was... at the junkyard, you were... would have been right there."

The thought alone made her feel ill. Rachel had been the only person who mattered to her for a long time now. Losing her like that was too much to even imagine. Their safe haven... tainted by that  _motherfucker_. In that moment, she felt so  _furious_. If Jefferson was here right now, she would rip him to pieces. No, that wouldn't be anywhere  _near_ enough to pay for his crimes. 

"Where is he? Where is that bastard?" There was no way in hell she was letting him get away with this.

Max and Rachel exchanged grim glances knowing exactly who she was talking about, the latter speaking with an uncharacteristic dark and murderous tone. "We'll deal with him, Chloe. For now, let's focus on getting you caught up."

Chloe swallowed her protests when she saw just how... scary Rachel looked in that moment. Both she and Max would want him to suffer for what he did, more than her. They probably had a plan of some kind. As much as she wanted to insist they take him down now, they clearly had more to explain. She got up and moved to her desk, grabbing a cigarette. She offered the box to Rachel, who shook her head.

"You really should quit those," Max muttered.

"Yes, mom," Chloe replied, not as playful as she had hoped. "How did you get back to this point? I'm guessing you didn't..." She turned to Rachel, feeling a twang at her heart as she thought about Max's attempt to save William Price. "What did you call it? The thing with the pictures." 

"Photo jumping," Rachel confirmed, recalling the first grizzly retelling she'd heard of Max's disastrous adventure into the past.

Max pulled away from the blonde, averting her gaze. "It was about a year after you... died. I was on my way to visit you. Wasn't really paying attention. I... got hit by a car, I think." She paused, shrugging. "When I came to, I was at your funeral again. I thought it was a nightmare at first, something my mind wanted to torment me with. It... wasn't. When I figured that out, I... took a leap of faith, I guess you could call it."

Blue eyes went wide with realization. "Wait, you... jumped in front of another car?"

"Not quite." The brunette stopped for a few seconds. "I didn't want to potentially cause a huge accident that hurt a lot of people. Something lots of people would see and be traumatized by, you know. Besides, a car could be pretty hit and miss, could easily end up paralyzed as..." She didn't finish that thought, mind briefly drifting back to the alternate timeline. "So, I went to the Junkyard."

"Why?" As she said that, the cogs in her mind began whirring. "The train."

"The train," Rachel repeated, confirming her deduction.

Shuddering at the thought of almost losing Chloe to a train, Max pressed ahead. "Luckily, I didn't... feel it. I was so thankful when I came to in my room at Seattle. But..." Max's eyes darted to the hazel-eyed blonde. "I was still too late to save you."

"Wait, you... did it three times?" Rachel asked incredulously. She hadn't known that.

Max shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing. "Well, four actually. It's hard to get the timing right when you don't have much control. I had to do it, though. You meant so much to Chloe, I saw it. If I could change it and didn't, what kind of person would that make me?"

Still a little shocked by the new revelation, Rachel managed a soft smile. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm grateful. Looks like I now owe two girls my life, huh."

Chloe winced, recalling the time she had saved the blonde. Pushing the panic from her mind, she tried to make light of the situation. "Guess we need to form a queue... there is one, well several things, I want to ask. This one is important, though. What about the st-?" Right before her eyes, Max just disappeared. Blinking several times, she checked the room to find it empty. "What...? Where?"

"Very subtle." Rachel sighed, focusing on Chloe. "Let me guess, you were about to ask about the storm, right?" Not waiting for an answer, she continued, "She avoids pretty much anything to do with the storm. Dodging, rewinding, redirecting. Unfortunately, she's getting pretty good at it." Sighing, she stepped out of the room and called downstairs. "Max. You down there?"

No answer.

"Max..."

A reluctant reply carried upstairs. "Y-yeah."

Shaking her head, Rachel offered Chloe a 'see, told you so' look before pointing downstairs. The pair headed to the kitchen, finding Max at the sink dowing a glass of water.

She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry about that. First run didn't go quite as planned. David's going to be here in three minutes. Chloe, get your... uh... underwear back on and  _please_ just... play nice and let me do the talking."

That concept was too impossible for Chloe to even entertain. "Be  _nice_ to  _Step-Douche_... No fucking way."

"Chloe... please," Max practically begged.

Rachel joined in to back her up. "Come on, once won't hurt."  
  
"Ugh, fine," Chloe groaned making her way back upstairs. The whole way up, she muttered every single insult and nickname she had for him to get it all out before she had to play nice.

As the bluenette left, Rachel drew focus to the near future. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, I'm just going to talk to him. It might take a few rewinds to get right, but we need him," Max answered, hoping that David would see reason eventually. "I need you to keep Chloe calm somehow. Otherwise... the conversation gets derailed."

"Not surprising." Rachel folded in on herself a little, visibly anxious. "David doesn't like me much, so it'd probably be better if I wasn't around. Actually, it might be better if it's just you alone talking to him."

"No!" Max exclaimed louder than intended. It surprised both of them. "I... need you. Both of you."

Not pushing it, the blonde accepted her plan. "You really aren't taking your eye off me, huh."

"Off either of you," the time traveler corrected. "Not until this is over."

As if on cue, Chloe returned to the kitchen. "Right, I'm back for the worst moment of my life."

Max knew that wasn't true, they all did, but it helped ease the tension. An anxious minute passed before they heard a car pull into the drive. All of them sat at the dining table, hearing the clink of keys and a creak. Then the door shutting, footsteps shuffling across the carpet. David came into view a moment later, confused by the meeting.

"Afternoon, Mr. Madsen," Max greeted respectfully. Rachel stayed quiet, forcing a friendly smile. Chloe... refused to look at him. If she did, she might blow a fuse.

David glanced at them, eyes narrowing before settling on his step-daughter. "I don't like strangers in my home, Chloe." He looked at Rachel disapprovingly. "Or known troublemakers."

"Ouch," Rachel muttered under her breath.

"I might be a stranger to you, sir, but I've known the Price family for a long time," Max replied, keeping her voice as sass free as possible. "I've only recently come back to Arcadia, though."

Managing a disapproving grunt, he shifted attention to Rachel. "And you. Where have you been?"

"Oh, missed me?" With no change in facial expression, she moved swiftly on. "I had an accident. Been in hospital for a while. I would've called but... comas tend to prevent movement. Last thing I remember was heading to see Chloe, then I woke up in Portland County General."  
  
"Is that so?" he muttered, more to himself than any of them. There was an obvious flicker of distrust in his eyes.  
  
To distract him, Max spoke up. "Mr. Madsen, I need to tell you something. You're the only person who can help."  
  
He crossed his arms, intense. "What trouble are you in?"  
  
"We're not, but someone else will be," the brunette tensed up. "Please."  
  
His jaw tightened, considering it. Eventually, he relaxed just a fraction. "Tell me."  
  
Over the first hurdle, she pressed ahead. "Tonight's Vortex Club party. There's someone you need to keep an eye on. Kate Marsh."  
  
David's eyes widened a fraction. "The church girl? She doesn't seem like the party type."  
  
"She's not," Max confirmed. "Regardless, she'll be there. Someone will try to take advantage of her. You can stop them."  
  
"Who is it? And how do you know?" David pressed, as brash as ever.  
  
"I... can't say... and I heard something about planning on getting her drunk and videoing it," Max replied. Explaining everything would take too long. If she said the wrong thing, something she shouldn't know with no explanation, he'd be suspicious of her and not trust anything she said.  
  
He continued to stare her down. "Are you scared of this person? Is that why you can't tell me?"  
  
"Something like that." It was easier to let him assume. "If you're there and keep an eye on Kate, It hopefully won't get out of hand. Really, you are the only person who can save her. If you don't... something really bad may happen. I think you care about Blackwell students, otherwise you wouldn't be listening to me like this. If you really care like I think you do, be there."  
  
Their eyes met, his checking for any sign of weakness. Searching for some indication that she was trying to trick him. Honestly, Max did feel uncomfortable but endured it.  
  
"Well, you're clearly hiding something," he eventually concluded. "But... you don't seem to be lying. I can tell. I don't know what you would have to gain from lying about this. Unless it's a distraction, but... I can't take that risk." Checking his watch, he sighed. "So much for a relaxing evening. Chloe, tell your mother I'll be back late."

With that, he headed towards the door. A few moments later, the sound of a car echoed through the street.

Now David was out of the picture, Rachel let out a long sigh. "That's the most civil conversation I've seen with David in... well, forever."

Shoulders slumping as the bravado wore off, Max leaned back in her chair. "Good, it's hard to tell with all the rewinding. You _really_ didn't want to play nice, Chloe."

"Hey, I was behaving," she protested.

"That time, yes. The others... you nearly started a fight three times," the brunette revealed.

"Sounds like the Chloe Price I know," Rachel chuckled softly.

"Hey!" Chloe exclaimed, mildly offended. "If David wasn't such a douche, I wouldn't  _have_ to keep putting him in his place."

"Right, sure." Rachel approached Max, wrapping her in a hug and gently running her fingers through brown hair. "You did a great job." 

It had taken Max a long time to get used to the blonde's touchy-feely behavior. Recently, she'd ramped it up a notch. Perhaps her anxieties about Chloe inspiring her to cling onto something certain. Someone who already knew her secrets. Someone who'd already been angry over them. Someone who had eventually accepted her, flaws and all. 

Chloe cleared her throat. "So, what happens next?" 

Max pulled away from Rachel, facing the bluenette. "So long as David gets to Kate in time, not much."

Judging by the general mood, she was certain there was at least one thing Rachel had yet to tell Chloe. Something that would definitely break her. She'd seen it once before. While she didn't want to cause her friend any more pain, keeping secrets only lead to more pain in the end. "Rachel..."

As if she knew what Max was going to say next, Rachel diverted attention away from herself in one last cowardly attempt to dodge it. She  _hated_ herself for stalling, but this was... hard. She got up, going to grab a drink. "Chloe, didn't you have a question for Max before she disappeared?"

"Oh... er, yeah." 

Before Chloe could ask it, Max interrupted in a pointed tone. "You haven't told her yet."

"Told me what?" the punk pressed, blue eyes zeroing in on Rachel.

Letting out a deep sigh, she closed the fridge door and turned to face Chloe. "Chloe. There's... something I need to tell you. It's not easy and... you might hate me after you hear this. You'd have every right to, honestly. I hate myself for it. But... you deserve to hear it. I don't want to keep secrets from you. Not like... well, my dad. I don't want to be like him." She shuffled uncomfortably at the comparison. "Not anymore."

Chloe didn't say a word, waiting. Her heart raced, fear and panic rising. What did Rachel have to tell her? 

"I..." she glanced over at Max, sighing, "made a mistake. A  _big_ one. Something I regret every single day. I... fuck, I cheated on you, Chloe. I'm... really sorry."

It was difficult to get the words out, ones which had been running through her mind for months. All her lies, accumulating. Her heart felt heavy, her choices weighing her down. Admitting it felt... well, a little better if she was honest. Some of the burden relieved. For that, she felt selfish. 

The bluenette didn't speak for a while, the confession hitting her like a sledgehammer. She... surely hadn't heard that right. No, she couldn't have. Rachel would never... "No. Don't... don't lie to me. You... this isn't funny, okay."

"I'm not lying," the blonde muttered, really wishing she was.

Turning pale, Chloe managed a strained. "Who? Was it...?"

Her gaze shifted to Max, the most obvious candidate at this point. There had been a weird vibe between them both, something Chloe had picked up on pretty early on. Her fists balled up, trying to keep her cool. 

Max blushed at the insinuation, shifting uncomfortably. Partly because... she felt a little disappointed it wasn't with her. Just for a split second. That made her feel very guilty, knowing just how much Rachel meant to Chloe. Over the past six months, she had seen a different side of Rachel to the rumors and cold hard facts they'd uncovered during their investigation. Rachel was just another lost girl who didn't really know what she wanted.

"N-no... it's not with me. I swear," she quickly added when she was able to.

"It wasn't Max," Rachel confirmed. "Actually, that might be easier to forgive than... the truth. In some ways. Not in others, I guess."

"Rachel..." Chloe voice wavered, somewhere in between anger and tears.

This was something she never wanted to see. Chloe had suffered enough without this. She had trusted Rachel... maybe that was what made it easier to hide. The bluenette was so desperate to keep her idealized Rachel alive, the one person who hadn't fucked her over. Which made this confession all the more difficult. By admitting her mistakes, she was crushing the bluenette's world. Proving her original view of the world right. 

That everybody would fuck her over eventually.

With no easy way to say this, the blonde just came out with it. "It was Frank. I... slept with Frank."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on that bombshell.
> 
> Till next time
> 
> Peace out


End file.
